


For Want of a Goat

by msarahv



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msarahv/pseuds/msarahv
Summary: What if a goat had scared David and made him fall to his Doom? What if he got injured and had to be looked after in his Distress?Or - Patrick is a great boyfriend, what else is new?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 11
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

David woke up and looked around him in a daze. There were trees. And nature. And smells that he associated with nature and did not like. He wondered why he wasn't in his bed with his boyfriend. Maybe he was at the motel and the roof had collapsed. He jerked upright and felt hurt like he had never before.

And Patrick was there, wearing his day clothes and a worried expression. What was happening exactly? David felt something tickling his chin and turned his head slowly. A goat was pensively chewing something while looking at him. He instinctively clung to Patrick's arm and tried to stand up. Nope. Not happening. Something was very wrong.

“David, you can hear me? Please, honey, say something.”

“Did the goat attack me?”

Patrick laughed loudly at this but David heard the tears too. Which was incorrect because Patrick never full cried. He sometimes had a crack in his voice and David could always tell when he was sad, but something truly terrible had to be the reason for opening the flood gate.

Given that he could still not move his legs, David had horrible suspicions, and his brain was now fully back and ready to concoct thousand of scenarios, each one sufficient for inducing a nice panic attack – since those were real apparently. When he got to _broke my spine and now I will never walk again_ , he stopped and worked on his breathing to calm down. Instead of letting himself be engulfed in the dark seas of his own creation, he asked:

“What happened?”

Patrick was kneeling down while stroking David's hair. He looked more composed but it still took him a few second to answer:

“You fell.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that part. From how high?”

“From a plane, David!”

So Alexis was there too and she was mocking him. It wasn't a good indicator of how serious the situation was, though. Alexis had lived though various dangerous adventures in her youth, which left little space for empathy. Plus she had witnessed David's getting injured as a child and knew he tended to overreact.

The goat was licking his face now. David sincerely hoped she was not going to try eating his hair.

“You tripped on a rope and rolled down the hill. I think you knocked your head on a rock and also...”

“What?”

It was a bad sign when Patrick paused. It always meant he was trying to protect him from a disagreeable truth. Most times David needed the protection but now he had to know.

“... can you move your legs?”

“Ffffuck!”

* * *

His brain was recovering and he remembered where he was. Heather's farm. Where the cheese came from, which was the reason why the presence of goats was tolerable. Heather had thankfully continued their association in spite of his sister stealing her boyfriend and he had come to get produce and Patrick had asked to take a tour of the land and looked at David with his eyes and David had said _Fine_ , because sometimes he had to let his boyfriend frolic in green fields. He had followed grumbling, daydreaming about the nice lunch he had been promised and then a goat had shouted from somewhere and he had been so startled that he had taken a few steps back and there was a rope on the side of the path and... he must have fallen. From this point on, he had no memories.

His legs and arms hurt whenever he moved. He tried to stay as still as possible because Patrick's face became distressed whenever he produced a sound. Plus the tears hadn't dried yet and David was busy making a pact with himself never to cause those ever again, even if it meant biting his own tongue.

They couldn't go back to the top of the hill, even though it wasn't very high , so they all waited, even Alexis. She was using a bit of cloth to gently press on David's temple and the thing was getting drenched in blood. David was wondering if he was going to pass out again, when he heard voices and saw two very hot, very muscled firemen coming in their direction, carrying a stretcher.

David fought against the neck brace like a stubborn cat, but the social dynamic was imbalanced and he had to suffer being encased in a suffocating manner and to only gaze upward at the sky and at times at Patrick's eyes, which were as beautiful, as the stretcher was maneuvered to the emergency truck that was waiting with the revolving lights on. Heather kept apologizing, even though it was nobody's fault.

“I would ride with you, David,” Alexis whispered, just next to his ear. He couldn't move his head to see her which made it very eery, “but I think Patrick needs it more, poor thing...”

David didn't contradict her. Patrick's hand was crushing his. It might not be possible to separate them without surgery. Was he going to need surgery for his leg? He felt himself tense and Patrick's other hand started stroking his hair softly

“...so I'll go back to the motel to pick up Mom and Dad and I'll see you at the hospital.”

He couldn't even nod with the brace on so he croaked an _Okay_ through his terror-stricken, strung vocal cords. Each move the stretcher made, however slight, produced waves of pain vibrating through his whole body.

* * *

The firemen were very friendly and at other times, he might have fantasized a little, maybe mentally dress Patrick in a fireman outfit (he still saved the idea for later). Instead he listened to his boyfriend being worried at them, then switching to him and asking where it hurts, before relaying to the firemen, who had already ask whatever they needed and were mostly humoring Patrick. David didn't want him to stop talking ever. He was feeling a little less tensed and managed to interrupt Patrick at regular intervals in order to receive kisses.

The dreaded moment came. He had to let go of Patrick's hand and be rolled into the emergency unit.

“I'll wait with your family. I'm not going anywhere, promise!” he heard Patrick yell behind him.

The next hours were hell. He wasn't allowed to sleep, or eat even when he told them he was going to die if he didn't. He was certain they put the oxygen mask on his face to shut him up.

He was hurt everywhere so he had to be sewn, glued and x-rayed. The various doctors and nurses did ask him how much it hurt but his answers were unhelpful, as he kept saying a ten for everything.

Finally, he was led to a room with another empty bed and a few minutes later, Patrick arrived at the door. David's heart grew three sizes. Then Moira and Johnny joined in and it was a lot, but he was happy to see them, even though his mother was looking at him with a look of horror. Alexis was there too, and now David could see how shaken she looked.

Patrick's hand was back in his as the main doctor came and started talking about what was wrong. It was not as bad as it looked. His head was fine, mostly, although they would have to monitor him as he had lost consciousness. On of his arms was broken, the other was just covered in bruises and his legs hurt like a bitch because he _wasn't_ paralyzed, and one of them was also broken, on the same size as the arm while the other was just sprained.

So, he would heal without surgery, it would just take a lot of time, and casts and arm braces. “So, what you will need is a dose of patience”, the doctor finished.

There was a collective sound that must have been his loved ones trying not to chuckle out loud. David decided never to speak to either of them ever again. He wiggled on the pillow and tilted his head to feel Patrick's chest. He could faintly feel his heartbeat. Patrick immediately started stroking his hair tenderly.

Okay, maybe he could be forgiven for the laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

When the doctor left, Patrick knelt and whispered:

“Looks like you'll need to be waited on hand and foot... literally,” he was smiling but David could see he was making an effort, “... you just gotta choose your slave now.”

David looked back at him wondering. Was Patrick asking to be the one to take care of him or the opposite? Where was he going to stay anyway during his recovery, the motel? In that case, Stevie would be his principal slave he guessed because the Roses were not the greatest when it came to nursing.

And while he could find some twisted pleasure at the idea of torturing Stevie on a daily basis, what he really wanted was the haven of his boyfriend's new apartment. He knew he had been disparaging it at first, but now that he had helped Patrick furnish it (with very strong hints that anything he chose was the only correct option because Patrick had to be taught about good taste, clearly), he loved staying at nights and while Patrick was the one asking him all the time, he didn't know if he could impose himself for such a long time (forty-five days, the doctor had said) with no way of repaying him with sexual favors.

So he didn't respond at once and turned his head to Alexis who was taking illegal photos of him and yelled at her to distract himself. Patrick came to his rescue and confiscated her phone and they spent a few minutes looking at her gallery and mocking her, while she wailed and appealed to their parents who could not give a damn. The familiar chaos was soothing and helped him make plans.

* * *

He managed to send his family on a food-searching quest (outside of the hospital, obviously) so they could talk in peace:

“I'll go where I'm wanted, Patrick. I'm afraid if you're around me 24/7, you'll break up with me in the middle. So I should stay at the motel and you can visit.”

Patrick's face was easy to read now. He had let all his walls down, like he rarely did. He had looked like that on their first date, when they had almost broke up, and the first time they had sex. It was a mix of desperation, eagerness and sincerity that was very hard to deal with and yet part of David's best memories.

Patrick sighed and finally spoke up:

“I... I don't think you're right. We spend all our days together anyway.”

“Expect when you have conferences or when I go visit vendors.”

“Yes, but see, I won't be there all day because I'll have to take care of the shop all on my own.”

“Oh, fuck!” He hadn't even considered that. It had happened before, when David was moping on his own, but not for such a length of time. They had to find a solution, hire someone, find out how to make it work financially....

“You're spiraling honey, calm down. Breathe with me.”

That's when it clicked. Patrick knew how to react to whatever David threw at him and how to deal with his anxious temperament. He was the only one. And it had happened enough times in the past and yet Patrick was still all in.

Plus David was tired and bruised and hurting and he wanted someone other than his mommy, someone he felt at home with. It was an important discovery and he had to act on it.

“Can I stay at your place then? I promise I'll make efforts not to be too much of a pain in the ass.”

“David, you've just been injured, you're allowed to be a little selfish you know. Or even a lot. You have no idea what I felt when I found you covered in blood. You wouldn't answer me, I thought...”

He didn't finish the sentence but David understood. If the tables had been turned, he guessed he would have started mourning after one minute.

“It's okay, I'm all there.”

“Yeah, but... I kind of need to see you a lot to make sure, now. Or I don't know if I'll sleep again.”

Well, if he was making Patrick a favor...

“I'll need some new cushion on your couch, though. And you'll have to buy a shelf for my clothes and...”

Patrick shut him down with a kiss. David smiled into it.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a week and David had mostly spent his time sleeping. Sometimes in the bed, sometimes on the couch, on the fantastic cushions he had bargained for.

Some people had visited at random moments, like Jocelyn Schitt, Ray, and even a woman named Gwen.

He had vaguely understood that Patrick had hired Jocelyn who was really happy to be out of the house, and was quite good at selling stuff so the business side of Patrick was relieved. Plus, David was content in the knowledge that it meant he didn't have competition about who his boyfriend would appreciate spending his working hours with. He had proof of that when he saw how happy Patrick was when he came home to him, even though, right now, he was rotten company.

They couldn't even have a meal together. David woke up in the middle of the night, from nightmares, then spent the day making up for his lost sleep. He had asked for pills but the doctor wasn't a fan of the idea. He had said vague uplifting stuff about courage and perseverance and argued with Moira who was a big believer in the power of medicine, and ended writing _her_ a prescription, that she selfishly refused to share with David.

So instead, David spent lonely hours, trying not to move or make a sound, so that his wonderful boyfriend could rest enough to take care of everything.

That lasted until today, when David snored into his sandwich. Patrick was acting all alarmed, as if it was not possible for him to ignore his food – okay it was, but he was still overreacting. So David confessed to his insomnia and had to endure a lecture from Patrick about waking him up and talking to him and such “I wouldn't mind, David” “But you need the sleep” and “You're the one in pain, it's my job to take care of you!” “I can't ask you to do too much or you'll get sick and how will we manage, then?”

They went in circles for a while until Patrick rubbed his eyes, sat down next to David on the very small seating he was left with and asked softly:

“Would it help if I sang you to sleep?”

David was not crying. He wasn't.

In the end, they bought a CD with soft songs and nature sounds and alternated between it being on replay all night and Patrick learning a new song just for David on his guitar and mollifying him enough so as to have a wonderfully resting night.


	4. Chapter 4

After two weeks, David was bored out of his skull. He spent his days texting back and forth with Stevie - but she had lots of work to do now - stealing Alexis from Ted- but it rarely worked- and watching mindless stuff on his laptop. When he found himself watching videos about trains on Youtube, he knew he had reached rock bottom.

So, he spent a lot of time contemplating stuff and that wasn't an easy ride. Like where were things going with Patrick, and was it true love (none of them had said it already, but it wasn't necessarily a bad sign, they both had some baggage after all, they were careful with their hearts) and was Patrick going to stop surprising him with his thoughtfulness and patience and attentions? Would he be done with it when David got healed?

He was accumulating an enormous emotional debt and how was it to ever pay it back? He couldn't even ask because Patrick was not someone who liked being taken care of that much. He liked tenderness and affection but he was a take-charge kind of guy, he needed to be the one in control. He was the one doing the romantic gestures almost all the time.

Yet, David had humiliated himself in procuring one once and it had been well received. But he didn't have two working legs anymore, so he would have to be very creative.

* * *

“Remind me again, why I'm doing this?”

“Because you are my best friend and you feel guilty about me being injured.”

“Why would I be? I wasn't even there when it happened.”

“But the sight of me crippled and helpless surely raises some hidden maternal instincts deep inside you.”

Stevie made a face at that and kept stirring the pot. It was starting to smoke, which wasn't good.

In the end, they called Twyla to the rescue. She brought fresh produce and ended up doing most of the work because she was much more susceptible to David's guilt-inducing powers. She was her usual cheery self, which was greatly appreciated by Stevie and David, who were busy drinking wine and playing tic-tat-toe. He had an inkling that Stevie would still take credits for the whole thing.

* * *

Patrick came home looking tired and stressed. David hated it and wanted to kiss the lines on his boyfriend's face away but Patrick was still too far to do that, as he stood looking at the coffee table in incomprehension.

“Did you lay the table yourself?”

“Yes, of course. I'm taking levitating lessons with Carrie.”

“Really? I shouldn't look in the pot, then, in case it turns out to be pig's blood.”

“All right, you got me. I had actual help.”

“You mean, you found a poor sod to prepare a meal for us and you did all the directing?”

“It took a lot out of me.” He produced a quite convincing sigh and Patrick laughed and lost a few stress lines. David grinned like a fool.

Patrick sat in the armchair and they ate in silence but with meaningful looks. The wine that David had managed to salvage from Stevie's greedy hands was appreciated and led to a beautiful moment when David had an idea how to de-stress his man even further.

“We could have sex, you know?”

Patrick spit out wine all over his blue shirt, making it a nice shade of violet. David didn't mind. He didn't like that shirt very much. He looked in awe at the face journey Patrick was taking, from surprised to horrified to aroused and embarrassed.

“I don't think so, David. You're not allowed to move much and it could harm you.”

“Depends on what we do...”

Patrick's sneer was priceless.

“I'm pretty sure you have to move a minimum, David and knowing you, quite a lot.”

“Well, first, hello pot, I'm the kettle. And second, there are ways.”

He could clearly see Patrick's conscious fighting with his lust. In the end, they both won and David's plan was thwarted. He had devised a shared hand-job situation with the both of them lying on the couch, but instead Patrick knelt next to him and did all the work. With his mouth. He did indeed move a lot to manage around David's many physical barriers but showed dedication and creativity.

It was very good, in fact, it was wonderful, but it still meant that his debt had only grown. Plus he owed him a shirt.


	5. Chapter 5

The hospital asked them to come for a check-up consultation and hell began. David could not use crutches because of his broken arm, there was no elevator in the building and Patrick lived on the top floor. Also, each time David bumped into something, he tended to shout like a pig.

The muscled firemen were not available sadly, even though David made a very convincing argument to Patrick to just ask (and Patrick was very clear he would not, so he must be jealous or something,...). In the end, there was just one person left to help.

“Of course I'll help, David will be way lighter than some of my patients. Like do you know some cows weigh...”

“Right, right, Ted, thanks so much” Patrick gave David an apologetic look but David was in a philosophical mood. There was a chance Alexis would not appreciate Ted manhandling her brother but it was better than Patrick hurting his back, or his Dad insisting he could still lift someone and then, the three of them would end up handicapped. His Mom would surely leave never to be seen again.

They had to take Ray's car too, because it was the only big enough one for David's cast and, God he hadn't miss this. If he wasn't so nice and the reason Patrick had settled in Schitt's Creek in the first place, David would want to kill him. Which was unreasonable, after all, he needed him for the ride back.

The mix between Ted's bad puns and Ray's incessant talking led to a very bad headache and this one was not just an excuse. Patrick was watching him like a hawk, which of course made him feel guilty and the hospital, who had given them a time to be there, was making them wait anyway for so long that David wanted to cry.

Instead, he whined softly at regular intervals, his leg tender from all the movements, and Patrick gently stroked his back and whispered sweet things in his ear like promise to go get ice-cream afterwards. David was almost angry at him for being so perfect. It made him feel like he didn't hold up in comparison and he wondered, like he did sometimes, what Patrick saw in him, apart from how hot he looked ( _this_ , he was confident about).

He was extremely afraid to ask him. Patrick was a very blunt person who liked to tease. Maybe that was one of the things, their shared sense of humor (except when Patrick and Stevie ganged up on David, that wasn't _fair_ ). He vowed to improve himself. There were books about that, weren't there?

And then, he realized that Patrick was humming a very familiar tone. He had sung it once to David, who had mouthed it back. _You're simply the best._ Maybe that's all there was. Patrick liked him. It was a difficult idea to process but it was easier as he sat on that hard bench, helpless, with Patrick's warm arms around his shoulders, present through adversity and diminishment.

Maybe he could plan the greatest birthday Patrick had ever had. That was in his range, and far enough in time for him to be back on his feet again.

All this thinking passed the time and he was finally called for the x-rays. This required him being wheelchaired to the technicians, then a complicated choreography and no Patrick to help. He was back to being in a bad mood and pouted his way to the next appointment.

The doctor was seated at his desk, already talking with Patrick when he was pushed into his office. David guessed they were talking about baseball because it was his boyfriend's main sport, but he couldn't be sure, nor cared. He just wanted to be told he was doing all right and go back home so that he could sleep in Patrick's arms.

But the doctor was mean and told him he would have to exercise. David hadn't felt like himself for so long that the idea of making insane efforts, for little results was very depressing.Patrick, that traitor, assured that it would be all done, no problem, as if he was the one in the cast and brace.

He dozed on and off during the car ride, thankfully not understanding a word Ray was telling Patrick and was only aware of his surroundings when Ted, who could really give the firemen a run for their money in the muscles department, held him up, while Patrick ran everywhere to open doors then back to lift David's cast straight. They offered Ted a drink but he was in a hurry and left with a quick parting pun. David graced it with a smile.

That night, his stomach still full of ice-cream, his head heavy with sleep after all that tumult, enjoying Patrick's soft kisses on his temples, he felt more courageous about his ordeal. And grateful for all those people in his life who had all teamed up to make sure he got better. He hadn't paid them or promise anything. Most of them weren't even his friends. It was a revelation. He mattered. Just by existing.

It was a lot.


	6. Chapter 6

One morning, David refused to get out of bed. It didn't make a big difference to lie there on on the couch. And he was tired, even after a full night of sleep. He looked at Patrick getting dressed for work, putting on one of his usual blue shirts and instead of complaining about it as he always did, and Patrick never listened, he just kept on looking.

He closed his eyes and did not respond to Patrick asking him what he wanted for breakfast. When he opened them again, he saw his boyfriend's face watching him with utter concern, hand ready to touch David's forehead, maybe to check for a fever.

“I'm not sick.”

“Are you _sure_? I don't think you've ever skipped a meal since we met. You could have an infection, maybe we should take you back to the hospital?”

“No need. Go open the store.”

“David...”

This time Patrick's anguish tone got through and he answered wearily:

“I just need quiet. Promise. I guess I need more sleep.”

Patrick only agreed to leave after having lit one of their store candles (and then putting it off because David didn't need to have to escape a fire), put the CD with the sleeping music on and left cereal bars and a thermos of coffee next to the bed. He also kissed him on the cheek softly. David was sad he could not appreciate all of this more but he was sad period.

He woke up and looked at his phone, but only an hour had passed. He could text Stevie but he didn't feel like it. Nothing did. His soul was as grey as Patrick's sweaters. It wasn't like one of his past panic attacks. It was completely still.

* * *

He ended up eating when Patrick came back at lunch time and begged him too. But his favorite pastry, that had somehow been conjured from Elmsdale's bakery, felt like ashes.

Patrick looked like a lost puppy. David didn't understand why. He wasn't a nuisance, or loud or demanding. He just needed to be left alone, forgotten.

He didn't realize he was crying until Patrick started drying them with his fingers. That felt kind of good for a second.

“It's hard not being able to make you feel better.”

“You can't manage everything Patrick. You don't have to.”

“You're so different today. Like you're not David anymore.” His voice was small, defeated. Patrick had such a competitive streak, he wanted to win against anything, even any inner demon David carried.

“It won't last, you know. I've felt like that before. It's just that, since we've met...”

“Yes?”

Since he had met Patrick, his life had gotten so much more fulfilling and happier. But it was a difficult thing to admit. It contained a lot of vulnerability and he wasn't ready to drop his inner coat of armor yet. He needed it in case Patrick left him for someone better or otherwise he wouldn't make it through. Planning for the worst had always served him well.

But things had changed so much. He didn't have a financial net anymore but, as he had just discovered, he had a net made of people ready to help. He also had a devoted boyfriend, who wasn't perfect, of course, but brought him a deep sense of peace and self-acceptation. He nagged him at times, even lectured him, yet he didn't ask him to change his personality. In fact, whenever David was at his most, Patrick seemed the most amused and fond.

And here he was, patiently waiting for an answer. David could give an inch:

“You're good at calming me down and I'm busy with the store, so I tend not to spiral as much.”

“So, are you saying you miss me?”

“I literally live in your home. We spend more nights together than we've ever had.”

“You're bored then? You want me to find you new books? Or ask around for someone to spend time with you?”

“Can you heal my bones faster?”

Patrick shook his head with a small smile.

“I need to see this day through. Me not being always perky is not a reflection on you as a partner. You've made this whole experience bearable and even pleasant at times. I've never been with someone who cared about me as much. I just need you to stop worrying for today and wait for me to feel better.”

Patrick didn't seem to accept that, but he still had to leave to open the store for the afternoon. David used the opportunity to settle back in the dullness. He hated every second of it.

* * *

The next morning, he was so hungry, he thought he could eat the _entire_ menu of the Café Tropical. He voiced this aloud to a hazy, just woken-up Patrick and, while it took a few seconds, the smile he got in response was blinding. He kissed him, once, twice, then repeated his urgent request for food.

In fact, he got so forceful, he pushed Patrick off the bed. When he heard the loud _thump!_ he yelled out in anguished:

“Oh, Patrick, sorry, sorry! Are you all right? You can't get hurt now, who's gonna bring me my foooood?”

Patrick didn't reply and disappeared in the bathroom. When he came back, he was still smiling and gently stroked David's sadly-mussy hair and whispered:

“I'm glad I got my boyfriend back. I missed him.”


	7. Chapter 7

David liked his physiotherapist, Seesha. She was efficient and funny in an intelligent way that made their sessions almost bearable. He had worked with personal coaches and yoga teachers - and even, he shuddered just thinking about it, _spin instructors -_ and he liked staying fit but he didn't like torture.

He had argued about the term with Alexis when she visited last. She claimed to have been threatened with actual torture and that David was a Big Baby and they had fought so much that she had left the apartment and he had to call Patrick to come back from the store because he was in distress. Patrick had resisted for a long time and had only appeared thirty minutes later.

The cuddle session had worked magic for his mood. Alexis had called later to ask him something and completely ignore anything about any argument.

She wasn't there today, nor was Seesha. Instead, there was a very, very cute male substitute called Steve. He wasn't nice and pushed David to his limits but he had a nice ass so when he turned to demonstrate a move, David was distracted for a second. He didn't hear the door open and only tuned in to Patrick's coughing slightly too loud.

“Hello...?”

“Oh, honey, you're back! I missed you so much this morning.”

He raised his un-wounded arm to ask for a kiss and Patrick obliged but he didn't look happy. Maybe he had had trying clients at the store. Maybe _Roland_ had come in. He would have to lift his mood.

Patrick was clearly distracted and turned to the therapist whose presence David had completely forgotten for a moment.

“So, you are...?”

“I'm Steve. I'm replacing Seesha while she's sick. David here is a challenging patient. He needs to move his ass more!”

He chuckled but Patrick merely crossed his arms and glared. David appreciated the attitude, it was a hurtful comment, but was a little puzzled. Usually Patrick was the first to tease him and team up with people who criticized him. Well, mostly Stevie.

“Or maybe you're pushing him too hard. He looks sweaty and tired, so he must be trying really hard.”

“I am. In fact, my whole body is hurting from the effort.” David added helpfully. Patrick frowned and finally turned to him.

“That doesn't sound right, David. You should rest a little.”

“Hey, you're not the professional, here. He has to go past his pain to get better.”

This was a weird statement. Seesha was always careful to ask him whether he hurt and always told him to stop when he did. And he was making progress. He could almost bend his knee now.

“I don't think so. I research a lot on the subject and those are antiquated views. It's now well established that listening to your body's signals is the best way to recover.”

“Yeah, David is just a little lazy, I'm sure he's exaggerating. Aren't you David?”

He didn't know anymore. There was clearly a fight on his behalf and he turned his head to look at both men as well as he could, since he couldn't move.

“That's it. Out!”

“What?”

“The session is over and don't bother coming back. We'll wait for Seesha to start working again and I'll be sure to send her a feedback on your performance.”

* * *

The door banged. Patrick sighed and sat next to David. His jaw was tightly shut. David was lost between extreme arousal and worry. Protective Patrick did things to him. But he didn't like how upset he was and was trying to understand why. He was someone who voiced what he felt, constantly. Patrick hid things deep inside and looked poised and reasonable. Except at certain moments when he felt threatened...

Oh...

“So, I absolutely loved your knight in shining armor protecting me from the dragon thing here, but can I ask you something?”

Patrick still wasn't smiling but he nodded. It was enough to go on.

“Is there another reason you were angry at him? I mean, I trust what you just said about reseraching stuff and Seesha is clearly better than him, but...” He put his hand on Patrick's shoulder and rubbed him gently “... it's not you to be so angry for so little, so, what's going on?”

“It's nothing.”

His voice was gentle. David remembered another time when Patrick had been jealous.

“You're angry at yourself, aren't you?”

Patrick raised his head. He opened his mouth, then shut it. He whispered:

“It's stupid.”

“You're allowed to be stupid at times. I'm stupid a lot. And you still like me.”

That got him a chuckle. He felt less stupid.

“I still think he was pushing you way too much and I want you back as perfect as possible.”

David was back to being grinning stupidly.

“And he looked a little too cute, is that it?”

Patrick closed his eyes. David wanted to hug him so badly. He really had to work well on regaining his muscle strength, because the minute the braces were off, he was going to hold his boyfriend all the time. He would have to be careful not to strangle him.

David made some tea and came back, sitting across David this time. He played with his mug for a little while, then said:

“This never happened with my exes. I don't like not being in control of my emotions.”

“Well, your exes were girls, so... It's kind of flattering in a way, but it also feels like you don't trust me. Weren't you the one lecturing me about it?”

And that was not the thing to say. They were both reminded of an unpleasant time in their relationship. Patrick looked worse.

“I am attracted to other people regularly. That's normal. I _choose_ to be with you. It's so worth it.”

“I know that. And yet, I get angry and upset. I shouldn't feel like that.”

“You mean like I felt distressed the other day about Alexis and you were all kind and kissed me all the time? I shouldn't have felt it because it was an overreaction?”

Patrick shook his head:

“That's different.”

“How?” His voice was a little harsh. He bit his lip and added: “Are you saying you should be better than me?”

And finally, finally, Patrick smiled. But he still didn't look happy.

“I can't protect you if I'm not in control at all time. You deserve to be cherished.”

If David wasn't encased in a scratchy cast, he would have believed he was now a puddle on the floor. The distance between them was wrong. He patted the space next to him. Patrick obeyed his gesture and they found a way to cuddle that was as comfortable as possible.

“I don't understand jealousy, but I know quite a lot about being anxious and upset. We feel like we feel. We just can't use it as an excuse to hurt someone else.”

He chose his words carefully. It was his turn to protect Patrick.

“I'd rather you tell me about it. We're in a serious relationship, doesn't it mean we can tell the other when we feel bad? I don't need you to be perfect all the time. Otherwise I'll never feel I can compare.”

“You do.”

It was a whisper but it sounded so sincere, David felt his throat tighten. He was not going to cry.

Well, who was he kidding.

It didn't matter, it allowed Patrick to get back in protective mode. David gave him that. It felt so good. Especially the kisses.


	8. Chapter 8

“Is something the matter, David?”

“Somebody is _wrong_ on the internet!”

He didn't need to turn around – a difficult feast at the moment anyway – to know that Patrick was grinning. The only thing he couldn't tell would be if he was just mocking him or if he also looked fond. It was a subtle difference most times as David strongly suspected that Patrick liked it when he got dramatic. So sometimes, he kind of exaggerated it a tad.

But not today. Today, he was pissed. Comparing Mariah to a third-class singer was already a faux pas, but the way the anonymous coward answered David's constructive criticism? Unacceptable.

A head settled on his shoulder:

“You forgot an “s” here...”

“I did not ask for a living spellchecker, thanks. I'm correcting a great wrong.”

“And I can't correct a small one?”

Patrick had won. David closed the browser and let himself be kissed. The lid of the laptop was lowered and Patrick sat on it, just in front of David, like a ginger cat.

David fought. This was important. He was filled with righteous anger and needed to rectify the situation, otherwise he would be grumpy all evening. But Patrick was persistent and kissed David's neck in an expert way that showed he knew him better and better. When David finally moaned, Patrick looked frustrated.

“We can still do stuff, remember?” David whispered.

“Yeah, but I miss touching you everywhere and make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good.”

This time, Patrick blushed. When it came to sex, the role were reversed and David went from being the immature one in the relationship to the experienced one. But it was also very cute of Patrick to be red all over.

“I miss other things...” and the rest of the sentence was muffled in David's hair. He got the gist of it and smiled.

“Me too.”

They stayed silent for a few minutes, none of them moving. Then David whispered:

“You know what I miss too?”

“Tell me.”

“Being outside.”

Patrick looked up with a pitiful smile. David grimaced back. He was fed up with pity. He needed action:

“I'm serious. I want to go out. And not just to go to see doctors.”

“I get it, David, I really do, but remember last time, how complicated it was and how many people it took?”

David tried to keep a steady voice and not sound too needy:

“But it would make such a difference. I would even want to go to the motel. Or the cafe. I'm desperate.”

Normally this kind of word choice would elicit a teasing remark and the fact that it didn't just added to his feelings.

“David, I promise that if I can come up with a solution, I'll tell you immediately. But right now, apart from pushing the sofa near the window, I've got nothing.”

“You would do that?”

Patrick closed his eyes and sighed in a dramatic fashion, he was surely copying from David, but answered:

“I would do anything to make you feel better.”

* * *

Looking outside was an improvement. Not that the main (well only) street was that riveting. He could see people walking around, not knowing their luck, most of them going to the cafe and of course to his store. He missed it a lot too. It was what felt most like his home. It was _him_ in the most intimate way. He dreamed one day, of finding a new place, bigger and with a terrace, so that he and Patrick could eat _outside_ in the summer...

It would pass and the doctors were completely confidence of a full recovery, so he knew he was just being impatient but it was still hard. He missed spending time with his family in the motel, he missed helping Stevie change sheets and listen to her rant about it, he missed cleaning the store's enormous windows while Patrick hummed in the back room. All these things that felt like chores at time, he wanted to do again. He had visits, from the important people in his life, and he lived with the one of the most important one at the moment, but it wasn't the same.

He felt horribly passive. It seemed that living in Schitt's Creek had awoken something in him that craved independence and self-reliance. This was a shock. Patrick might have a role in this too. He pushed him and believed in him at the same time and no one else had ever done that. He knew David arrived late at his own store every day, had to be reminded of everything and yet he told him he did a great job. He liked him even if he was, well, him. He wished he could see himself through his boyfriend's eyes so that he could see his own worth.

Those kind of thoughts brought tears in his eyes and he didn't like that. He felt so lonely. It was getting more and more difficult to escape this emotion. He had gone through all forms of entertainment he could think of and they were all grating at this point.

The door opened and someone whispered. It wasn't Patrick. A cold shiver ran through his spine for the time it took him to find a new position that faced the door. Then he gasped.

They were all there. His family, Stevie, Ted, Ray, and a few others (not Jake, fortunately) who had come to surprise him, bringing food and party decorations. His mind raced to check that it wasn't his birthday, but no.

Patrick sat next to him and said “If you can't go outside, the outside must come to you.”

Something in him stirred. He didn't know what it was but it was a good thing. He kissed Patrick and smiled at everyone. Alexis hugged him, Stevie didn't but she smirked.

All was right in his world.


	9. Chapter 9

For his next hospital trip, they received some unexpected good news.

“Your arm has mended well enough that you may walk with crutches. Just be very careful and limit your physical activity during the day.”

This was _freedom_. On the way back, he managed to walk up the stairs, very, very slowly but without needing as much help as before. Patrick's gentle hand was guiding his elbow, as he walked just behind him, and if David hadn't felt elated already, just looking at his boyfriend's face would remind him that this was something to be happy about.

It also meant he could go outside. After a few days of building his arms' strength, he managed to reach a bench on the other side of the road and sat on it glowing. He then took out a book and started reading it in the sunlight, enjoying himself, but he never got to turning the page he was at.

Many, many people stopped by. He knew most of them and accepted the chatting with good grace, even though it was rarely intellectually stimulating. At some point, Bob came from his garage and started babbling about another bench, which was in another part of the town, and how Gwen and him had mad out there, and _eww_!

At least, someone approached him from _Rose's Apothecary_ 's direction and while David couldn't make out their face, with the sun glowing directly into his eyes, he still recognized the way he walked and grinned invitedly. He was rewarded with a slow kiss. Patrick sat next to him and caressed David's thigh:

“You did it!”

“I did.”

He was really proud of having crossed a road, like a chicken. But the way Patrick made it sound, it was more like the end of the New-York Marathon. His boyfriend was an unending source of compliments since the accident, although he kind of missed the teasing he'd gotten from him before. Well he oscillated on that subject.

The way back was harder and he stopped to whine regularly, so Patrick promised some earthly delights (mostly food) to motivate him. They were all lies, which was a very bad idea and meant that Patrick had to go out again, to the cafe, to pick up something that could appease David's hunger. In the meantime, David finally read his book.

That night, they celebrated with a very complex set of gymnastics performed by Patrick as a way to please David a little more than before. Meanwhile, David made the most of his newly-healed arm and hand, leading Patrick to a very satisfying orgasm he took great pleasure in watching.

On the whole, the recovery process was speeding up and he felt like a new person, even though, in the past, he had no problem doing any of the actions he had to relearn from scratch now. But he realized that he had grown as a person through the whole ordeal. He also realized that his time alone with Patrick was running out. He didn't like the thought and yet the idea of living permanently with Patrick was scary in its own right.

He watched him sleep peacefully next to him. He looked more and more rested as days passed. Taking care of him must have been so tiring and he had _never_ complained. David didn't know if he could accept being important to someone like that, apart from his parents.

The thing was, Patrick was also becoming very important.


End file.
